


{ On the stroke of midnight pass }

by odainath



Category: The Good Wife
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odainath/pseuds/odainath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the news hits, Alicia is in her office, blissfully unaware.<br/>AU season 2.  Peter's latest indiscretion is the last straw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	{ On the stroke of midnight pass }

  
  
_Certainty, fidelity  
On the stroke of midnight pass _

'Lullaby' by W.H Auden

\--

When the news hits, Alicia is in her office, blissfully unaware.

Once again, she is the last to know, finding out only by accident when checking her email. Peter has fucked another escort, the tape is leaked to the press. The video quality is dim, the camera shaky, but the audio is sharp and clear, almost painfully so.

 _“Does she do this for you?”  
“No, good god, no.” _

Alicia sits down very hard, holds her head in her hands.

Kalinda steps inside the office, face sombre and Alicia looks through her fingers, eyes shining with unshed tears. The investigator bites her lip and stretches out her hand, hovering inches away from the other woman's shoulder.

Alicia stares down at the floor and closes her eyes. 

  
*

  
The stories run over the next few days, the flashing camera lights she had hoped to avoid becoming part of her morning commute, reporters calling every few minutes wanting a statement. She functions on automatic pilot, saying 'no comment' more times than she cares to count, taking things one day at a time.

Unfortunately; now, she must think days, if not weeks ahead, and her old mantra becomes obsolete.

  
*

  
It was Glenn Childs. _Family shouldn't be played with, used like pawns in a chess match_ , Alicia thinks, but re-election time was nearing, and Childs thought to wage a war in the media. Alicia and her children were collateral damage. Photos, videos, audio files; Childs provided them all and the news stations took the information with glee. Sex and scandal sells itself, Alicia hears, Peter's indiscretions were profitable.

 _“A mistake...”  
“What? You fell off the fidelity bandwagon, Peter?” _

Peter's weak excuses fall on Alicia's deaf ears as she packs him a bag, books him a hotel room, and locks the door behind him when he leaves the apartment. Zach and Grace watch from the hallway, their faces full of sadness and anger.

“That's it, then?” Zach asks, “Dad's gone?”

Alicia nods, deciding that truth is the best option.

“Yes.”

Grace bursts into tears, Zach clenches his jaw and she wants nothing more than to gather them into her arms. Instead, she stands still as they both turn and walk away from her, the doors to their rooms closing at the same time, a loud 'slam' in the otherwise silent apartment. 

  
*

  
Alicia spends more time in the office, gathering billable hours, ignoring the snide whispers that follow her every move, the unwanted sympathy. She grows snappish, no longer the right person to 'hand-hold the clients.' Soon, even Kalinda grows uncomfortable, and everyone knows how difficult it is to shake her.

She hears Kalinda whispering to Will in a dark hallway and stops short, “Why is she like this? She's been through this before-” with panic and sympathy? heavy in her voice.

Will raises one shoulder in a half-shrug. Alicia watches with narrowed eyes.

“I think that's exactly it...” he pauses, both he and Alicia remembering _Before_ , “even someone like Alicia can take only so much.”

Kalinda nods, not looking entirely convinced.

  
*

  
 _“Alicia? Can I have a word?”_

She follows Diane into her office and stands before the desk, her fingers floating against the edges of her still-worn wedding ring.

“This latest... scandal,” Diana begins, choosing her words carefully like any good lawyer would, “it's placed us in...”

“If you want me to leave, then ask,” Alicia interrupts.

Diane flinches back, startled by her sharp voice, but Alicia is past caring. Gone is the woman who observed social niceties to be replaced with a Cary-like person, one who will fight tooth and nail.

“Though if you remember,” she continues, going for the trump card she holds up her sleeve, “Eli Gold brought his business here at my suggestion.”

The threat is obvious, if unstated, and after a moment Diane gives a slight nod, her eyes filled with surprise and... new-found respect?

“Of course.”

Alicia spins on her heel and walks back out of the office, enjoying the sound of her footfalls against the polished floor.

  
*

  
Zach says, “Mom?”

She looks at him. “Yes?” she asks, her voice smooth, betraying no emotion. Her children are her Achilles heel, the only people who have any chance of cutting through the thick bubble she has placed around herself. For this reason, they remain the only two to whom she remains kind.

He sighs, looking older than his fifteen years. “When is dad coming home?”

They have this conversation a lot. By 'a lot', she means every day.

“He isn't,” she answers shortly.

Zach sighs, defeated breaths of air running from his mouth.

“I miss him.”

Alicia looks down at her hands, which rest next to the divorce papers Peter refuses to sign.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

  
*

  
It stays like this, days passing, too drawn out or too short at varying times. Alicia misses _Before_ , when she was unaware, but more than that she misses her easi( _er_ ) time at work. She had finally reached a place where she was valued as a lawyer. Now, she is Peter Florrick's poor, little wife once again, to be given only sympathy.

She hates it.

It's been a year. She doesn't know, though, until she glimpses the news playing the _'biggest scandals of the year_.' When she realises she's been moving in a haze for so many days and months, she wants to scream, claw at the world. She doesn't, though, because her energy has faded, lost among court hearings and parent/teacher conferences she attends on her own.

  
*

  
 _“Have dinner with me?”_

Will's words pierce something and she looks up at him, surprised to see the faint stubble along his jaw, smudges beneath his eyes, new worry lines she hadn't notice develop.

“Please?”

His voice is desperate and she realises _she_ put those lines there, _she_ was responsible. She doesn't admit this, of course, just gives a slight smile (the first in months) and _'yes_.'

  
*

  
One dinner, two, three...

At the third dinner, Alicia laughs; softly, it is true, but both she and Will fall silent as if marking an occasion. Eventually, Will pours them both a glass of wine and raises it up in a silent toast.

  
*

  
She and Peter are with the divorce lawyers again and Alicia holds his gaze, sees the true apology in his eyes. But now, she also sees that he would only repeat the mistake yet again were she to even consider such a thing.

“Please?”

That voice, that familiar voice that once had the ability to disarm her now puts her on edge, makes her remember the times she had simply sat, unable to cry, unable to speak, barely able to think.

“Not this time, Peter.”

He looks away and she turns his attention to his lawyer who shifts uncomfortably in her seat, an intruder on a private conversation. She is blonde and petite, _much like Peter's prostitutes_ , Alicia muses, seeing the irony.

“The kids...” Peter begins.

“Are hurting,” Alicia interrupts harshly, “they're _hurting_ , Peter.”

Peter clenches his eyes tightly closed, and she knows her words hit him hard, the unspoken _'and it's your fault'_ cutting him to the quick. She feels something but nevertheless pushes the papers towards him, a pen resting on top. Her signature has already been scrawled on every page, has been for over a year now.

A year of waiting, a year wasted.

  
*

  
She removes her wedding ring and throws it among her other jewellery, not caring where it lands. It's oddly liberating and she feels lighter than she has in months as she enters the living room, fastening her watch.

Grace, ever observant, nods towards her hand where the faint line of the ring can be seen.

“It's official, isn't it?” she says flatly.

Alicia nods and flicks her hair over her shoulder, daring her daughter to call her names.

She doesn't, instead she grabs her backpack and heads down for the bus. Zach follows, shoulders slouched, and once the door has closed behind him Alicia leans against the kitchen bench and hangs her head, any liberation she may have felt replaced with guilt.

  
*

  
 _“It's over, then?”_

Alicia's head snaps up and Kalinda reels back, startled at the intensity of the other woman's reaction. She had thought she'd known Alicia well, remembers their conversation where she had stated plainly that Alicia was an easy case to break down. Now, looking at the woman before her, Kalinda concedes she has no idea what to do with the pieces, the fractures of this complicated creature.

“What is?” Alicia hisses, sounding almost feline. “My marriage?”

“Well, yes...”

“And everything that stems from that? My _kids_ , fifteen years of my _life_ , are they over too?”

Kalinda's eyes widen and she shakes her head, suitably chastened. Scowling, Alicia holds her hand out for the file Kalinda has gathered, the subject clearly over and not to be mentioned again.

  
*

  
Her clothes are loose and she zips up her dress with ease, not liking how it hangs from her hips, no longer contouring to her curves. She has lost more weight than is strictly healthy as her diet of caffeine and little sleep finally takes its toll. It's not that she looks bad, but rather that she has looked better.

 _Odd_ , she thinks, _how superficial things still continue to matter._

“You're going out with your boss, aren't you?”

Alicia sees Grace in the mirror and pauses mid-way through putting in an earring.

“Yes,” she answers, lowering her hands. She has been waiting for this conversation, been dreading it.

“Becca was right, wasn't she?” Grace continues, her voice growing shrill. “You've been sleeping with him all along.”

Alicia turns at this and folds her arms across her chest, angry.

“No, Grace,” she snaps, _“I_ respected my marriage vows.”

The doorbell rings, preventing Grace from saying anything further, and Alicia moves past her daughter and watches as Peter enters. He has the kids tonight, the two striking an amicable custody balance, and they look at each other, his eyes taking in her dress, carefully applied make-up.

“Going out?” he asks.

Alicia nods as she takes her coat off the rack and shrugs it over her shoulders.

“Yes.”

She doesn't elaborate and Peter doesn't press any further, knowing it would be futile.

  
*

  
It's not an enormous surprise when Will kisses her in his office. Their latest case has been difficult, pushed them to their limitations until they boiled over. Their kiss becomes a battle for dominance and she fists her hands in his hair pulling him close as he claws at her skirt, fumbling for the zip. Clothes are shed, strewn across the room, as he pushes her against his desk, her legs rising to wrap around his waist. He rests one hand against the desk, loops his other arm around her back and her breath hitches at the closeness of him, every inch of him pressing into her.

 _“Fuck, Will.”_

The curse that falls from her lips is loud in the silent office and Will laughs, his breath soft against her skin. She smiles and pushes herself still closer until it is Will who is out-of-breath, almost incoherent.

Neither try to speak again.

  
*

  
The kids suspect _something_ has changed, and probably know what, but they don't say a word. Perhaps because their mother begins to laugh again and the line that seemed to have been carved deep between her eyes starts to disappear, leaving her forehead smooth.

  
*

  
Eli Gold visits her once and Alicia raises a groomed eyebrow as she enters her office and finds him lying on her couch, looking at the ceiling.

“Mr Gold, always a pleasure,” she greets sarcastically.

He laughs, the sound harsh and quick, and sits upright. Alicia watches as he tilts his head a fraction to the side, his eyes roaming over her person in a way that on any other man would be voyeuristic.

“You seem different,” he says.

Alicia shrugs as she sits down and crosses her legs. “I probably am.”

“Ha.”

She looks away when Eli says nothing further and turns her chair towards her desk, not noticing him rise to his feet to stand at her side.

“I've had calls about you,” he says, and she flinches at the close proximity.

“Oh?” she says, regaining her composure.

“Yes,” Eli continues, “you wouldn't believe the number of people who want to interview the former Mrs Florrick. Magazines wanting articles on 'how to bounce back', feminists wanting the secret to your success in the workforce after children, the list goes on.”

Alicia looks up, sceptical, and Eli gives another harsh laugh.

“I know, I find it hard to believe as well, but there you go.”

“Your point, Mr Gold?” she asks.

“Are you interested?”

Alicia chuckles. “Protecting your six-figure income?”

Eli shrugs, seeing no point in lying. “Yes.”

“The answer is 'no',” Alicia says, “but I suspect you already knew that.”

Eli nods as he turns on his heel and grabs his coat from the sofa.

“It's always worth asking, though.”

Alicia watches as he inclines his head towards her, his version of a final 'goodbye', and leaves her office.

She doesn't see him again.

  
*

  
She tries to see Jacqui as little as possible, but some meetings are unavoidable and the two women stand silent in the kitchen as they wait for the kids to get their things together. They are staying at Peter's tonight, as per the custody arrangement, but they are dragging their feet, moving at a glacial pace.

“You look well,” Alicia says, trying to start some sort of conversation.

“Hmph.”

Alicia rolls her eyes, deeming it to be a lost cause, and is startled when Jacqui launches into a sudden diatribe.

“He apologised, what more do you want?! Everyone makes mistakes-”

“And most people learn from them and do not repeat that mistake,” Alicia interrupts harshly. “I _refuse_ to be the wife who stays on the side-lines, lets their husband get away with every, single transgression. I did that once and I refuse to do so again!”

The two women glare at each other and Jacqui opens her mouth to argue further but Grace and Zach appear in the living room and they fall silent.

“Mom?” Grace says uncertainly.

“Have you got everything?” Alicia asks, looking towards her daughter.

“Yeah.”

Alicia smiles. “Then have a good time at Dad's.”

Grace makes a noise in her throat Alicia takes to mean 'yes' and both she and Zach follow Jacqui to the door, ignoring their grandmother's glare as they kiss Alicia on the cheek. 

  
*

  
David Lee enlists her help on so many divorce cases that one of her office walls becomes lined with tins of cotton candy. Apparently, according to David, women find her life reflected in their own, making her the perfect candidate to undermine pre-nups, gain the upper hand in custody battles. Male lawyers in particular (most divorce lawyers in other words) tended to lose track of their case and of their bladders the moment she entered the room.

She isn't certain if this is a compliment but her client list grows, as does her reputation, to the point she is allowed to first-chair her own cases, have her own assistant.

“This stuff really is awful,” Kalinda comments one night, taking a handful of cotton candy.

Alicia laughs, the sound flowing freely from her mouth. “It's David's version of a 'well done',” she explains, “and if it keeps him happy then who am I to disagree?”

Kalinda raises an eyebrow. This is the closest the two women have been for months, since Kalinda's near-fatal 'it's over' comment Alicia took entirely the wrong way.

“Which it does,” Kalinda says, gauging the other woman's reaction.

Alicia says nothing, her face smooth (she always has given new meaning to 'poker face') only moving when the phone rings. Still looking at Kalinda, she reaches out and takes hold of the receiver.

“Will?”

She runs her hand along her collarbone, tracing the jutting line. Kalinda watches the way the light glints off her manicured nails.

“I'll meet you in ten minutes.”

Alicia rises to her feet, moving her hand over the sharp line of her hip, smoothing the fabric of her dress. She gives no sign that she notices Kalinda's questioning gaze as she bends down, grabbing her bag off the ground.

“It's late,” she says simply, “you should get home.”

With that she leaves, the scent of her perfume lingering the air long after she has gone.

  
*

  
 _“Nice job, Alicia.”_

Alicia masks her confusion at Diane's compliment and stays silent. She was called into the second partner's office (they still haven't managed to find a third) with an enigmatic 'you're needed' and now, sitting opposite Diane, she wonders why she is here.

“I'm sorry?”

“Will and I have been looking at the accounts,” Diane explains, “you've made us quite the profit this year.”

Alicia makes an unintelligible sound, still unsure where this conversation is heading.

“So much so that we've been thinking.”

The ghost of a smile flickers over Alicia's face, only for it to fall into its usual mask.

“Oh?”

“Yes, how does the title 'Senior Associate' sound?”

Alicia wants to giggle, more at Diane's grandiose posturing than anything else, but stops herself. Instead she gives a polite smile.

“Thank you.”

  
*

  
“Promotion to Senior Associate. Three shots of tequila and a martini.”

Alicia laughs as Kalinda falls into step beside her in the hallway.

“How did you find out so quickly?” she asks in lieu of answering.

“I have sources,” Kalinda says enigmatically, “and is that a 'yes'?”

Alicia doesn't answer for a moment, instead remembering the past year, the countless hours she put in, the sleepless nights, and soon gives a short nod.

“Give me five minutes.” 

  
*

  
Cary Argos.

Alicia smiles to herself as she enters the courtroom and sees him at the prosecution table. Gone are the days she found him remotely intimidating and she doesn't spare him a second glance as she sits down with the defence and leans back in the chair.

“All rise.”

She stands and waits for the judge to say his piece and order the prosecution to speak first. Cary gets to his feet, makes a show of buttoning his jacket and Alicia wants to roll her eyes as he launches into his introductory speech. It's not that she doesn't respect his skills, she is well aware that Cary is a good lawyer, but this... posturing is amateur, detracts from the case.

“Objection, your Honour.”

Cary halts mid-sentence and glares at her; she sees annoyance in his eyes, knows from working with him that the easiest way to make him lose his train of thought is to interrupt. It's a tactic she used with Stern, one that works with many lawyers.

 _“I'm sorry, your Honour. Withdrawn.”  
“Mr Argos?”  
_  
Cary opens his mouth, falters.

“If you'll give me a moment, your Honour, I need to consult my notes.”

Alicia smirks. 

  
*

  
“I heard about your performance in court.”

She and Will are in his apartment (they have yet to spend the night at hers) on the sofa; she is leaning against the arm of the sofa, her feet in his lap, and raises an eyebrow at his words.

“Good or bad?” she asks.

“Very good.”

Alicia sighs as he traces circles on her ankle, his hands moving slowly to her calf, fingertips dancing along her skin. He shifts, moving her feet from his lap and reaches instead for her wrists and pulls her towards him until she is flush against his chest. She grins and leans down for a kiss as Will's arm wraps around her back, keeping her close.

The phone rings (his not hers) and she reaches out blindly and presses _'reject'_ much to Will's amusement.

“Busy, are we?”

She says nothing, choosing instead to kiss him again. 

  
*

  
They arrive at work, both with heavy eyelids and dark smudges beneath their eyes and Alicia knows that everyone sees what is going on.

Oddly enough, though, no one seems to care and she sits down at her desk feeling remarkably light.

Finally, finally, she's being judged for her work and her work alone.

How liberating. 

 

  
**Entry tags:**   
  
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End file.
